


Le Beau et la Bête

by ajp9x



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-05
Updated: 2013-02-28
Packaged: 2017-11-28 07:45:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/671976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ajp9x/pseuds/ajp9x
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Breath catching in his throat, Stiles heart stopped beating as he took in the monster in front of him. It looked like a wolf, but was twice Stiles’ size. It stood on its hind legs like a human, hovering over him menacingly, with its teeth bared. Stiles felt the adrenaline flood his body and the effects of the alcohol dissipated almost immediately. He considered running, but realized that his body was frozen in shock. He was petrified.</p>
<p>The beast stared back at him, as he stood with his mouth hanging open, unable to move or say anything.  It moved in closer, teeth still threateningly exposed, but hesitated suddenly, cocking its head to the side and letting its lips relax. The beast inhaled, smelling Stiles, and then let out an ear-shattering howl.</p>
<p>Stiles fainted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Halloween Party

**Author's Note:**

> I roughly based this fic off of Beauty and the Beast. I pulled from the original fairy tale and the Disney version and tried to modernize it. This is my first ever piece of fan fiction, but I'm not new to writing. I welcome any kind of feedback, but please keep all criticism constructive. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> P.S. I got the idea for this from tumblr: http://girleverafter.tumblr.com/post/41476457906/once-upon-a-time-in-an-enchanted-land-far-far

Stiles Stilinski had never cared all that much for Halloween. He didn’t really see the appeal of the holiday outside of the candy, and his dad made him stop trick-or-treating after he turned thirteen. But, Scott McCall loved Halloween and he was Stiles’ best friend, so when Scott invited him to the middle of the woods for a Halloween party with Jackson Whittemore, Lydia Martin, Allison Argent and a whole slew of other kids from their class, Stiles accepted. After all, he had the rest of his senior year to share with these kids and since Scott had become such good friends with them since he started dating Allison their sophomore year, it made sense for him to be friendly as well. Even if they seemed less than interested in returning the sentiment ninety percent of the time. One-hundred percent in Jackson’s case, but Stiles still wasn’t sure if Jackson really liked anyone all that much.

Of course, now that Stiles was sitting in his Jeep at the edge of the Beacon Hills Reserve, he wasn’t so sure that this party was a good idea. It was already dark outside and Stiles couldn’t see any source of light in the distance. He wondered for a brief second if this had all been a ploy to get him alone in the middle of the woods before remembering that Scott was the one who had invited him and was probably the one person in the world that would never do anything to hurt him emotionally or physically. Scott had even offered him a ride but Stiles had refused, not wanting to be forced to stay at the party longer than he wanted to in addition to not wanting to be Scott and Allison’s third wheel. Again.

Maybe it was because he felt bad for spending less time with Stiles since he and Allison had started dating, but Scott had become notorious for dragging Stiles along with the two of them, insisting that they weren’t going on a date, and then basically going on a date while Stiles watched from about four feet away. He knew it wasn’t something that Scott did on purpose, but it was still a bit obnoxious to Stiles that the two of them had been dating for nearly two years and still couldn’t keep their hands off each other sometimes. Even though he knows most people consider that a sign that a relationship is working out well.

There were a few other cars parked along the dirt road, including Allison’s blue Mazda and Jackson’s black Porsche, so Stiles decided it was time to man up and follow the footpath to the party like the directions in Scott’s text instructed. He grabbed the flashlight he had stowed in his Jeep in preparation for the nights events and took a swig of the Jack Daniels he had stolen from his dad’s liquor cabinet before he began walking swiftly away from the line of cars, cautiously looking behind him every few steps and taking another swig every few more.

The effects of the whisky began to kick in as Stiles continued down the path. He knew that he probably shouldn’t have been drinking it as fast as he was but the amber liquid was the only reason why Stiles was still moving forward and hadn’t doubled back to his car. It wasn’t just the woods that scared him though, it was the socialization that was just ahead of him.

Talking wasn’t something Stiles had a problem doing (in part because of his ADHD), but talking about things that other people cared about was something he had a problem doing (in part because of his ADHD). A lot of people lost their patience with Stiles after a few minutes of conversation because they just couldn’t keep up with him. One topic would lead to another and another and Stiles would just start spewing off random tidbits of information about things that few people knew anything about and even fewer cared anything about. For instance, in an Adderall induced stupor, Stiles had once detailed the entire history of the male circumcision on the essay portion of his Economics exam, thinking that it answered the question. When he read it after receiving his exam back, however, even Stiles wasn’t sure how he had thought it was cohesive. Scott had once said that talking to him was like browsing on wikipedia, before you got done with the article you started on, you would click through another link and start on another and another until you eventually forgot where you started.

Just as he was beginning to wonder if he had gone down the wrong path, Stiles caught a glimpse of a flickering light in the distance and heard laughter. He sped up just slightly, taking a large pull from the bottle, and about thirty seconds later, he walked into the lighted circle and was relieved when the only people who even noticed him appearing didn’t seem to care one way or another.

The fire in the center of the small clearing was at least as tall as Stiles and there were several picnic tables surrounding it. Considering the layout and the fact that there was a footpath that led right to this place, Stiles figured it must be one of the preserves many picnic clearings that never really got used except by high schoolers drinking on nights like this. One of the tables had quite a few people gathered around it and Stiles could see Scott upside down over a keg, being supported by Jackson and Danny Mahealani, from the lacrosse team. He began to scan the crowd for Allison, who he was unsurprised to find just outside the circle, with a concerned look on her face.

“Always a crowd pleaser, eh?”

Allison turned her head to face Stiles, “This is his third one,” she didn’t look nearly as amused as the crowd around the table did.

“Good thing you drove then, huh?”

Allison looked back up at Scott just as he was being lowered out of the stand and Stiles immediately understood her concern. Scott was wobbly at best, and looked like the slightest breeze could probably blow him over. His face lit up as soon as he saw Stiles and he drunkenly ran towards him, throwing himself into Stiles arms.

“Stiles, I’m so glad you made it!”

Unprepared for Scott to let all of his weight fall onto him, Stiles was knocked back a few feet as Scott launched himself into Stiles chest. He regained his balance enough to help his friend shift his weight back onto his own feet and wrapped his arm around Scott’s waist, leading him towards a nearby picnic table. The crowd had already shifted their attention to the next keg-stander and didn’t seem to be paying much attention to Scott anymore, so Stiles and Allison were on their own to take care of Scott.

“You alright, Scott?” Allison said, smiling at her extremely intoxicated boyfriend and wrapping her arm around his middle with Stiles.  Scott mumbled something about love and possibly something about pizza and then kissed Allison sloppily on the cheek with his big, goofy smile. Stiles felt a pang of jealousy, but replaced it with the burn of another pull off his dad’s bottle. He was almost drunk at this point and decided that there was no reason he shouldn’t be considering the fact that he hiked his ass all the way out here for Scott, who probably wouldn’t even remember seeing him tomorrow.

“It’s a good night for this,” Allison said, looking upwards after they sat Scott down at the table. Allison situated herself next to her boyfriend and Stiles moved to the other side of the table.

Stiles found himself following her gaze upwards and staring at the stars that were poking through the night sky. She was right, of course, it was just cool enough for the fire to not be overwhelmingly hot and the sky was clear through the hole in the trees above the clearing.  He took another long pull of the whisky bottle.

Stiles returned his eyes to ground level and saw that Scott was all but sleeping with his head on the picnic table, his mouth hanging partially open.  Stiles let out a sigh as he smiled at his best friend and Allison grinned with him once she saw what he was looking at.

“It’s hard to believe it’s almost November,” Stiles said, looking back at the party. “Next thing you know it will be May and we’ll all be graduating.”

“Yeah, It’s crazy. I mean, it’s been two whole years since I moved here and it feels like it’s only been two minutes. “

Stiles and Allison shared a knowing look and fell into silence once more. Stiles pulled a few more times from his bottle and felt his lips go numb and his world go a little hazy. He watched the party as his classmates stumbled around, feeling each other up and making out. He pulled from the bottle again and sighed, wondering if he would ever know what it was like to love someone.

Sure, he had once told people he was in love with Lydia and that he had been since the third grade, but he wasn’t sure how much he really believed it to be true anymore. Regardless, Stiles had moved on during his sophomore year after seeing how easily things came for Allison and Scott. Stiles had known that Lydia was unavailable to him all along and part of him has always wondered if he held onto his crush to avoid being hurt. When you want something unattainable, you can’t get hurt when you don’t get it.

But Stiles still wanted to feel like he belonged somewhere. Everywhere he went he seemed just a little out of place. He wasn’t big and muscular like the other Lacrosse players. He was five-eleven and weighed 147 pounds. He didn’t drive a nice car or wear designer clothes. He was just Stiles. Hell, no one even knew his real first name. He was talkative and kind of annoying and the only people that put up with his shit on a consistent basis were Scott and his dad and even they had days where Stiles thought they wanted his head on a platter.

Stiles didn’t even realize that he’d finished the bottle until he accidentally knocked it over and nothing splashed out. He left the empty container on the ground and looked up at Allison who was absentmindedly running her fingers through Scott’s hair and watching the fire.

When Scott and Allison first started dating, Stiles was a little resentful towards the brunette, but once he started to see how much she really liked Scott, he knew that it wasn’t fair to be jealous. Scott deserved a girl like Allison. She was lovely and smart and so genuine and Stiles had to admit, even she had become pretty good at putting up with Stiles on a regular basis.

Stiles didn’t realize how defeated his demeanor had become until he noticed Allison looking at him with her eyebrows furrowed. It was the tell-tale sign that she had picked up on something being out of sorts, and was trying to figure out what it was. It was only a matter of time before...

“Is everything okay, Stiles?”

… she asked what was wrong.

“Can I ask you something?”

Allison’s looked him directly in the eye with her brow still furrowed, this time in determination to solve whatever problem was plaguing her friend.

“Of course, Stiles, what’s up?”

Stiles hesitated for a long moment, avoiding eye contact with Allison.     

“Stiles?" 

“Do people like me? I mean, besides you and Scott obviously, I know you guys like me. Other people. I mean… do they even really know who I am?”

Allison stared at Stiles for a second, obviously trying to figure out how to say what she was thinking. She opened her mouth a few times before she finally let words come out.

“Well, like you said, Scott and I like you… I mean, we love you, Stiles, we really do. But I don’t think I can really answer that question for you… I really don’t know what other people think of you.  I haven’t heard much of anything one way or the other, to be honest.”

Stiles knew that her answer would probably be something along those lines. Stiles wasn’t the kind of person people talked about. There were never rumours surrounding him other than the yearly (sometimes twice-yearly) questioning of his sexuality, usually provoked by a comment made by Jackson.

“Why do you want to know if people like you, Stiles?”

Stiles just shook his head, avoiding eye contact. “No reason. I guess I was just wondering.”

Before Allison could question Stiles, further, there was a commotion on the other side of the fire and Jackson ran up to their table, slapping his hands down and getting into Stiles’ face.

“Did you invite your dad to our little party, Stilinski?”

Stiles looked past Jackson towards the section of the woods everyone was retreating from and sure enough, he saw a few flashlights poking through the trees that he could only assume belonged to some of the officers of the Beacon Hills Police Department where his father was Sheriff.

That was another reason why Stiles never got invited to parties. No one wanted the Sheriff’s kid around when something illegal was happening.

Allison woke Scott up and they took off in the direction of the cars. She beckoned for Stiles to follow, so he ran to catch up to her, slinging his arm around Scott’s waist to help her support him. They moved surprisingly fast through the woods and when they got to the cars, everything was in chaos, but there were no signs of the police. Stiles knew that he was too drunk to drive, so after he helped Allison get Scott into the passenger seat, he got behind the wheel of his jeep began moving forward, further into the reserve, instead of heading towards the road that the police would surely be watching. If he had to, he would sleep in his car tonight. He would rather be in trouble for being out all night than be in trouble for getting arrested for underage consumption and driving while intoxicated.

The chaos behind him faded into the night and Stiles focused all his attention on the road in front of him. His vision was still a little misaligned and his legs felt a little bit like jello from running all the way to his Jeep, but the adrenaline was keeping him focused enough to stay on the road. He started to pull over after what he assumed was a safe distance from the commotion and just sat in his front seat, taking deep breaths and trying his hardest to avoid a panic attack. It wasn’t until he’d regained focus and caught his breath, that he realized he had parked himself in front of a rather large and menacing looking house.

Stiles thought he knew the reserve pretty well, but he had never seen this house before. It looked like the burnt remains of an old plantation style manor and Stiles couldn’t help but think how wonderful it must have been before it caught fire and fell into disrepair.  Now, the charred walls of the house were overgrown with ivy and many of the windows were boarded up or broken. It looked like no one had set foot in the house in a decade.

Glancing behind him, Stiles noticed that the road had all but disappeared and he realized that he must have driven some distance off the road to reach this place. The trees were much more spread out here, so that very easily could have been the case.

He still isn’t sure whether or not the alcohol in his blood was the reason he stepped up onto the porch after gawking for a good five minutes, but he is sure that the liquid courage is what prompted him to push the front door open.

It was dark, but Stiles could still tell that the house was in considerably better shape on the inside than it was on the outside save for a layer of dust that could rival the aftermath of Pompeii. Stiles did his best to be quiet while tiptoeing across the foyer to the grand staircase, though he wasn’t sure what he was trying to hide his presence from. He stared up the staircase for a few moments before taking the first step up, followed by the second and third. He briefly entertained the idea of exploring the whole house before the fourth step squeaked and brought him back into reality. He suddenly felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and decided it might not be a good idea to explore the creepy old house in the middle of the woods when he was all alone. He slowly backed down the steps and turned to face the door. Instead, he was met by a pair of glowing red eyes.

Breath catching in his throat, Stiles heart stopped beating as he took in the monster in front of him. It looked like a wolf, but was twice Stiles’ size. It stood on its hind legs like a human, hovering over him menacingly, with its teeth bared. Stiles felt the adrenaline flood his body and the effects of the alcohol dissipated almost immediately. He considered running, but realized that his body was frozen in shock. He was petrified.

The beast stared back at him, as he stood with his mouth hanging open, unable to move or say anything.  It moved in closer, teeth still threateningly exposed, but hesitated suddenly, cocking its head to the side and letting its lips relax. The beast inhaled, smelling Stiles, and then let out an ear-shattering howl.

Stiles fainted.

* * *

 

The voice was rough and it didn’t belong to a body. Stiles was in the woods, but he didn’t recognize where, so he just stood, unsure of what to do next. He heard the voice again and began to move in the direction he believed it to be coming from.

The incorporeal voice grew louder but almost seemed to be coming from every direction. All it said was “Help me,” over and over again and Stiles could feel himself becoming more and more frantic as the voice called out more frequently. He began to run, unsure if he was even moving in the right direction but still couldn’t locate the source of the voice. It was even louder now, but still spoken like a whisper. “Help me,” it repeated.

Stiles could hear the voice as if its owner was standing over his shoulder, whispering in his ear, but he was alone. He whirled around, trying to find the source.

Then everything went black. 

* * *

 

Stiles woke up disoriented and hung over, but still miraculously alive.  He sat up and the bed he was in creaked with his movement. He winced at the noise and made an attempt to stand quietly, but felt his head get light and was forced to sit back down on the bed. He looked around, taking in the room and once his blood flow had returned to normal, he made his way over to the one window in the room, located on the wall directly across from the bed. He was high up, most likely on the third floor and it was still dark outside. He was just beginning to try and figure the odds of an escape out the window being successful when he heard a low grunt behind him.

He felt his blood run cold and slowly turned around to face the same beast from before, standing in the doorway. It looked slightly less threatening now, but its eyes still glowed red, rendering Stiles completely incapable of speech.

It made a move towards Stiles, who felt himself instinctively back against the wall. The beast stopped moving and let out a low grunt before it began to speak.

“What is your name?” it asked.

Stiles didn’t respond right away so the beast growled out the question again with a little more force. 

“Stiles… my name is Stiles.”

The beast analyzed him from across the room, huffing a few times, but asking no other questions.

“Who are you?” Stiles asked, voice shaking through the silence.

The beast hesitated for a moment before responding, “I am Beast. I have no other title.”

Stiles paused, “What are you going to do to me?” he asked, struggling to keep his voice steady.

“You are my prisoner. You wandered into my territory, and now you must stay. This room will be yours. You also have free range of the rest of the house, except for the basement. The basement is off limits and you will not enter under any circumstances. The kitchen will have various foods stocked in it by tomorrow morning. You may eat what you like. Under no circumstances are you allowed to leave the house. Understood?”

“But why are you keeping me prisoner?”

Beast’s eyes glowed brighter and his lips curled back to expose his teeth.

_“I could have killed you,”_ he said through a growl.

Stiles could feel his heart racing as he looked into those red eyes. He struggled to breath and was almost sure that he was going to pass out again.

Beast’s eyes faded a bit and he moved back towards the door, lowering himself onto all fours to walk. He turned to face Stiles before closing the door.

“You should get some more sleep. Like I said, there will be food for you in the kitchen in the morning.” And with that, he was gone, the door shut behind him.

Stiles collapsed to the floor and began to sob. After everything that had happened, he knew there was no way he would be able to sleep tonight. He could only begin to imagine how angry his father would be when he discovered Stiles wasn’t in his bed in the morning. He didn’t even want to think about how that anger would turn into worry when he learned that no one had seen Stiles since the night previous or how the worry would weigh on his father the longer he went without finding Stiles.

And Stiles hoped that he wouldn’t find him, because if his father found this place and tried to save Stiles, he was sure that the beast would kill him.

All of these things crushed Stiles under their weight as he lie awake that night. He felt somehow responsible for his kidnapping and utterly helpless under the power of the beast. He would never be able to escape with his life, but staying in this old house meant that he was dead too.

Stiles pulled the blanket over his head and curled into a ball. At some point in time, despite the tears and the overwhelming fear that he felt, Stiles drifted into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

 

Melissa McCall was on her first cup of coffee and had just positioned herself in front of her laptop to begin reading some of the latest news articles when her cell phone rang.

“Hello?”

_Hi, Melissa. This is Sheriff Stilinski._

“What did Scott do this time?” she asked, lifting her coffee cup to her lips and smirking at her own joke.

_Actually, I’m calling about Stiles. He didn’t come home last night, so I figured there was a good chance he was over there._

Melissa looked out the window into the driveway and saw Stiles’ jeep parked next to her car.

“Well, his jeep is here, so it looks like you assumed correctly. I’ll go wake him up.”

_I would appreciate that. Could you also please tell him that he’s grounded for not answering his phone? And that his sentence will double if he isn’t home in the next fifteen minutes?_

“I’ll be sure to let him know,” Melissa laughed and hung up the phone, setting down her coffee and making her way upstairs to her son’s room.

“Stiles, your dad just called and…” she stopped and looked around the room for any sign of Stiles but didn’t see one. “Scott, where is Stiles?”

Scott groggily rolled over and looked at his mom with a confused expression on his face. “I don’t know, I haven’t seen him since last night.”

Melissa’s face was blank. “But his jeep is in the driveway.”

It took Scott a minute to register what his mom had said, but once he did he quickly got out of bed and located his phone. When he dialed Stiles, the call went straight to voicemail. “He’s not answering.” Immediately, he called Allison, but she said that she hadn’t seen Stiles since they left the party either. Melissa was still standing in his doorway, and Scott looked up to her.

“Mom, no one has seen him since last night.”

Melissa turned around to head back downstairs and called the Sheriff back, her hands shaking. 


	2. The Voice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When he had first woken up, Stiles had thought it had all been a weird nightmare, but his thoughts of freedom were quickly shattered when he opened his eyes to see the empty, unfamiliar room surrounding him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know where I'm going with this, but I'm not totally sure how I'm gonna get there... So... Enjoy Chapter 2! I'll probably update this about once a week.

Judging by the location of the sun, Stiles estimated that it was probably around noon. His phone had gone missing (no doubt taken by Beast), so he had no way of being sure of the time, but considering how long it had been since the sun first appeared in his window, Stiles knew it had to be crossing over into the afternoon by now.

He wasn’t hungry and he didn’t have to pee so Stiles hadn’t really seen a reason to leave the room that had been designated as “his.” The room wasn’t his, though. It would never be his and he would probably never see _his_ room again. But that was just one of the numerous items that had made the list of things that he couldn’t think about right now because they broke his heart just a little too much

When he had first woken up, Stiles had thought it had all been a weird nightmare, but his thoughts of freedom were quickly shattered when he opened his eyes to see the empty, unfamiliar room surrounding him. The sun had only just risen at that point, but Stiles hadn’t moved an inch since then. . He doubted there was much to keep him occupied in the old house and the fact that Beast was somewhere, lurking about was enough of an incentive to keep him curled tightly in bed.

It wasn’t that he was afraid of Beast. Because the only thing that really scared Stiles about him was the way he looked. In the hours he’d spent immobilized under the covers, Stiles had realized that Beast was not going to kill him. He would have done it already and probably wouldn’t be feeding him or giving him a bed to stay in if he didn’t want Stiles alive. He hadn’t figured out what Beast’s intentions were yet, but he knew that he was safe. Mostly.

Stiles had been too scared last night to realize it, but now that the fear had subsided he also came to the conclusion that Beast was not completely bestial. There was definitely a part of him that was human and that’s why he could talk and probably why he kept Stiles alive. There was a sense of right and wrong in Beast’s brain or he would have just killed Stiles for entering his territory. I mean, when was the last time you heard of someone entering a bear’s cave or a wolves’ den and being forced to stay, given a bed to sleep in and food to keep him alive.

There were still a lot of unanswered questions, but Stiles felt more at ease knowing that he was safe from harm… or at least death. Unfortunately, with his fear being lifted, Stiles was left with the anxiety brought on by the realization that people were starting to notice his absence. At least, his dad was. It might take Scott and Allison a little longer to miss his presence seeing as they didn’t have school until Monday, but his dad had definitely noticed Stiles was gone by then. He wondered what his dad would do. Given Stiles past record, he had a feeling his dad would go looking in all the usual places before worrying too much about Stiles not being in his bed this morning when his dad came in to tell him goodbye before going to work. He’d call Stiles phone a few times and when Stiles didn’t answer he would start to get mad. He would leave a voicemail threatening to ground Stiles and then he would probably call Scott’s mom and ask if Stiles was asleep somewhere in their house. Stiles didn’t want to think about what would happen when his dad found out he wasn’t there because he knew that’s when the panic would start to set in. His dad would leave another voicemail, more frantic this time, asking Stiles to please call him as soon as possible. But how long would he wait for a response before accepting the fact that Stiles was missing? He was all his dad had left. His disappearance would wreck him. Stiles couldn’t bear to think about the finality of it all. It would be like he was dead.

How would they even explain his disappearance? Would he just be “missing” until he was forgotten about? That almost seems worse than dying. At least death would provide some closure for his father who would undoubtedly need it the most.

What would they say at school? How long will it take for everyone to forget about him? A month? A week? A _day_? Scott and Allison would remember him for longer than that, but he couldn’t help but feel like no one else really would. It made Stiles feel even worse, knowing how insignificant his life had really been. He hadn’t done anything spectacular except for the one time that he masturbated eight times in one day, but obviously that wasn’t something you shared with people, nor was it something that someone should strive to be remembered for doing.

There was one thing that made Stiles feel a little more at ease though: Scott had Allison. He and Scott had been friends for as long as he could remember, and he knew that Scott would probably never forget him, but he wanted Scott to be able to keep living. He was too young to feel like he lost everything and before Scott had Allison, Stiles was Scott’s only friend and vice versa.

The consequences of Stiles disappearance seemed like they were never-ending and the pain that he felt was like a white-hot knife being slowly inserted into his chest and twisted relentlessly. Stiles thought he might cry, but somehow the pain made it impossible. Like it hurt so much that his body had just shut down and gone into shock. He couldn’t move and he felt like he had to force himself to breath. All this before he even got out of bed.

Suddenly, Stiles remembered his Jeep parked outside and was overcome with both hope and panic. On the one hand, if they followed his tracks and found his jeep, they might be able to find Stiles. But on the other hand, if they didn’t come prepared and armed to the teeth, Beast would surely rip them apart.

He could always try and escape, too. Beast had to leave at some point, right? He could slip out when Beast was gone and just hop in his jeep and drive away. He’s left his keys in the ignition and there was always a chance that Beast hadn’t thought to take them, too. 

Stiles moved for the first time and walked over to the window to look outside. His view was of the front of the house, but when he looked down, his jeep was nowhere to be found. Somehow, Beast must have moved it. Stiles cringed at the thought of his beloved jeep in a crumpled heap at the bottom of a ravine, but realized soon enough that it didn’t really matter, because he would probably never drive it again. If Beast had thought to remove Stiles’ jeep, he had probably covered its tracks as well. The sliver of hope he had felt withered and he accepted defeat, sinking to the floor below the window, his back against the wall.

As he sat there, his mind started racing again, trying to figure out a way he could get out. He didn’t know where in the woods he was, so trying to leave by foot was probably a bad idea. He was sure Beast knew these woods better than anyone else and could easily find Stiles if he tried to go anywhere. The chances of Stiles making it back to the road and far enough away from the woods to get help before Beast caught up to him were slim without his jeep.

The quiet of his solitude was interrupted and Stiles could hear Beast moving around underneath him on the second floor. It sounded like he was moving furniture or something, but Stiles couldn’t really imagine Beast being all that into interior design. The sound below eventually stopped though and about a minute later, Stiles could hear Beast coming up the stairs. Stiles barely had time to stand up when Beast entered Stiles’ room loudly.

Despite the obvious sounds of his approach, Stiles jumped a bit when Beast came blundering in, but just walked over to the bed to sit down.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Beast said, lowering his body slightly in an attempt to seem less threatening. It worked a little bit.

“It’s a little late for that,” Stiles shot back snidely, plopping down on the edge of the bed. Stiles was sarcastic to begin with but when he was hurting he had a tendency to project his pain into snarky comments as a way to try and release it. Normally it just made him feel worse, though.

Stiles thought he saw hurt register across Beast’s face after his comment, but if it was there, it disappeared nearly as quickly as it had shown up.

“There is food in the kitchen if you’re hungry,” Beast said, turning to leave.

The pain inside of Stiles started to bubble into anger.

“What did you do with my jeep?”

“I moved it.”

“Obviously,” Stiles scoffed.

Beast turned around to face him, his features blank. Not that his features registered much emotion to begin with.

“You aren’t going to need it anymore and I didn’t want it to draw more people into my territory.”

Stiles could feel his anger growing.

“Dude, my dad is the Sheriff. There are going to be people looking for me and the last place anyone saw me was in the woods so I’m thinking that you’re ‘territory’ is going to have people drawn to it anyway,” Stiles mouth was moving a mile a minute and he wasn’t sure if he had been breathing. “Not to mention the fact that this house basically screams, ‘Oh, you’re looking for someone who went missing in these woods? You should probably look in here!’”

“They aren’t going to find this place.”

Stiles was a bit stunned at how daft Beast was being. Did he honestly believe no one would see the creepy looking three story house in the middle of the woods?

“HOW COULD THEY POSSIBLY MISS IT?!” Stiles was yelling now because Beast seemed so sure of himself and Stiles didn’t want to believe that he was right. He was so hurt and angry at Beast for doing this to him.

Beast didn’t raise his voice in response. Instead, he lowered it into a growl that sounded more animalistic than human and slowly reared onto his hind legs, raising his hackles.

 _“No one will find this place,”_ Beast said, eyes flashing a brighter red than usual.

Stiles was a little taken aback by the sudden aggressive behavior, but knew he shouldn’t be surprised by it. Beast may want him alive, but he’s not going to let Stiles yell at him and challenge his authority. He’s still in charge whether Stiles likes it or not.

They stood across the room from each other in silence, staring at each other, neither of them wanting to be the first to move. Stiles finally gave into the silent tension, though and decided to venture more questions.

“Why are you keeping me alive?” Stiles voice was more even now.

Beast lowered himself back into his less threatening stance. “You are not a threat and because of that, I won’t kill you.”

“But why hold me here? What good am I to you?”

Stiles was pushing his luck at this point and he knew it. Beast’s lips curled into a slight snarl. Most likely out of annoyance with Stiles.

“Because you found this place and if you were to leave you could lead other’s here.”

“But I’m not going to do that. Besides, I don’t know if you noticed or not, but you’re twice the size of any human, with razor sharp teeth and claws to boot. I think you could handle anything I could bring to you.”

“You don’t understand, there are people who are equipped specifically to kill me. They have made it their sole purpose in life to see me dead.”

“Well, lucky for you, I don’t know any of those people, so if you could just let me go—“

_“YOU WILL NOT LEAVE THIS HOUSE. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?”_

Beast was no longer speaking in a conversational tone. It was like his voice was a growl and a bark at the same time and frankly, it scared the shit out of Stiles who stopped talking immediately. He had definitely pushed too far at this point.

They stood in silence for nearly a minute and Stiles could feel the tears welling up inside of him, just waiting for release. With one final gust of courage he spit out, “So that’s it then. You take away everything I know and love and hold me captive here for the rest of my life, just so you don’t have to face down some big bad hunters that want you dead,” the tears were streaming down Stiles face now and he could feel the adrenaline quickly running out of his veins. “You’re a coward.”

“What do you know about bravery?” Beast growled, moving towards Stiles in a way that made him extremely uncomfortable. “Even now, you reek of fear.”

For once in his life, Stiles was out of words. Beast looked like he was ready to pounce and Stiles was the only prey available at the current moment. Maybe he had been wrong about the whole wanting him alive thing.

“I have my reasons for keeping you here.” Beast was now only a few feet away from Stiles, who had backed himself up against the wall next to the bed.  “I don’t expect you to understand or like it, but while you are a guest in my home you will respect me and my authority, are we clear?”

Stiles could barely find the strength to nod his head in compliance, but as soon as he did, Beast back off just a bit and lowered himself back to all fours. He turned around and made his exit before Stiles could recover enough for more questions.

Stiles fell onto the bed and pulled the covers back over his head.

* * *

 

Sheriff Stilinski sat on the front porch of the McCall residence and stared at his son’s jeep, unsure of what step to take next. He filed a missing person report and had talked to Allison and Scott, but neither of them could really point him in a solid direction.

It didn’t make sense. Stiles had parked his jeep in Scott’s driveway, left the doors unlocked and the keys in the cup holder and his cell phone on the driver’s seat. It was almost as if he didn’t want to be found.

To make matters worse, Allison seemed to be under the impression that Stiles had been upset about something the night before.

_“He asked me if anyone liked him. He seemed really distant…”_

Scott and Allison both said that the last place they saw Stiles was in the woods. Sheriff Stilinski had mentioned that in his report and had requested for a team to search the woods first thing in the morning, but given the fact that Stiles’ jeep had show up at Scott’s, he was skeptical about whether or not they would actually find anything that would lead them to his son in the woods.

Scott came out of the house and sat down next to the Sheriff, handing him a cup of coffee. They didn’t say anything for a few minutes but Scott finally broke the silence.

“He’s alright, isn’t he?” Scott sounded wounded when he asked the question. Like he was trying to keep himself from crying.

“I don’t know, Scott. I certainly hope so, though.”

Scott’s hands were shaking and he wouldn’t stop bouncing his knee. “I haven’t been a very good friend to him, lately, Mr. Stilinski. We haven’t really spent a lot of time together in the past few months.”

The Sheriff knew nothing he could say would make Scott stop worrying, but it hurt him to see Scott blaming himself for Stiles disappearance. “Scott, this isn’t your fault. Stiles knew how much you loved him.”

“But he left his jeep here with the keys and his phone. It’s like he didn’t want to be found.”

Sheriff Stilinksi sighed because he had already thought the same thing.

“Or worse… what if he… you don’t think he would…”

Scott didn’t have to finish his sentence for the Sheriff to know what he was thinking. He’d been trying not to think about the possibility that Stiles may have taken his own life, but the way that he left his things at Scott’s like he had been giving them to him definitely could be an indication of just that.

“I don’t know, Scott. I really don’t know.”

He could hear Scott struggling to breath and knew he was trying his hardest not to cry. It was nearly enough to send him over the edge too, but he knew he had to keep it together if he wanted to have any hope of finding his son… dead or alive.

They sat silently for a few minutes and then Scott retreated back into the house. The Sheriff sat a bit longer, still staring at Stiles’ jeep… heart shattering into a thousand pieces.

* * *

 

Stiles woke up with a headache and an empty stomach and decided that now was as good a time as any to go see what kind of dog-food Beast had stocked up in the kitchen.

He exited his room quietly and made his way down the hallway to the stairs, descending down two flights and finding himself on the landing where he had first encountered Beast. He mad his way towards the back of the house where he assumed the kitchen would be and found it with relative ease. The house was big, but the layout was pretty predictable which Stiles definitely appreciated. The last thing he wanted to do right now was run around looking for the kitchen for twenty minutes.

The kitchen was big, obviously designed to be used more than one person at a time, and most likely not the people whom the house belonged to. There was a large industrial looking refrigerator and a door on the other side of the room that Stiles assumed led to a pantry. When he inspected both, he was surprised to find that Beast had done an alright job of stocking up on edible foods so he made himself a sandwich and poured himself a glass of milk before turning to head back up to his room.

As he rounded the corner at the top of the first flight of stairs, Stiles heard the same noise he heard before coming from a room down the hall, directly under where his room was. He made a detour and stopped just outside the room. The door was cracked just slightly and there was a small sliver of light creeping through it. As Stiles got closer he could see that the room was a small library with floor to ceiling bookshelves built into every wall. Beast was pulling books off the shelves and reading them with a delicacy that Stiles hadn’t really thought he was capable of. Some of the books he put back after reading a few pages and others he would walk over to a desk on one side of the room, piling them on top of each other.

Stiles stared through the crack for a while before deciding that it was probably best if he left before Beast saw him. The last thing he wanted right now was another confrontation considering the last two had ended with Stiles feeling utterly helpless and crying in bed.

As he ate his sandwich in bed, Stiles found himself with even more questions but most of all he wanted to know what Beast was looking for in those books. He wasn’t going through them like he was reading for pleasure. He looked like he was researching something but it almost seemed like he didn’t know what he was trying to research.

The exhaustion from everything that had happened still hadn’t faded so Stiles fell back asleep with relative ease.

* * *

 

Stiles could hear the disembodied voice again.

His eyes snapped open and he found himself once again in the middle of the woods. _“Help me,”_ the voice kept saying, but Stiles was frozen with fear.

He could hear it getting louder like it was getting closer and closer and Stiles had to force himself to even breathe.

Then it said his name. Not like a threat, but quietly, like it was awaiting an answer. Stiles’ fear began to subside as the voice repeated his name and its plea for help, but his anxiety was growing.

“How?” He asked the air around him, his voice a frantic whisper. “What do you want me to do?”

The voice was silent for a minute and Stiles began to wonder if it was gone. He turned around to try and find it but instead found a large house towering over him. It took him a moment to realize that he was looking at the burnt house that had become his prison, only Stiles was looking at the version that must have existed before the fire.

He took a step towards the front porch just as the sun began to peek over the horizon. It was rising faster than it should and by the time Stiles stepped onto the porch, it was all the way revealed.

Stiles hesitantly moved forward and reached out for the doorknob, but when his skin made contact with the metal, it ignited and flames swallowed the door. Stiles backed away quickly falling backwards off the porch and scrambling to get further away. The flames engulfed the entire house in a matter of seconds and the voice returned, closer than it had ever been.

_“Help me, Stiles.”_


	3. The Man

Stiles woke up drenched in sweat and gasping for air and much to his dismay, he found that he was not alone. Beast was standing near the door, eyes flashing red and claws exposed. Stiles, let out a startled yelp when he noticed Beast standing there looking ready to attack, but then realized that he’d probably been talking in his sleep or shouting or something. After an uncomfortably long silence, Stiles spoke up, still slightly shaken from the nightmare he’d just been ejected from.

“Uh… Sorry, bad dream. Was I sleep-screaming or something…?”

Beast relaxed a little bit, his eyes dimming to their normal color and his hands softening. He didn’t say anything, but huffed a little bit before lowering himself to all fours and sulking out of the room.

Well, at least Stiles knew he was safe from any intruders. Not that it was likely that anyone would intrude here, let alone make it to the third floor without Beast noticing.

After recovering from the scare that the nightmare and Beast’s unexpected and threatening presence had caused, Stiles pulled back the covers and removed the t-shirt that was now drenched in sweat. He wasn’t sure if there was a place he could wash his clothes since he only had what was on his back, but he figured he better find out because we wasn’t about to live the rest of his life smelling worse than he felt.

Stiles stood up and left his room, wearing only his underwear, in search of the bathroom. After standing though, he suddenly realized how badly he had to pee and realized that he hadn’t used the bathroom since he had first arrived. Luckily, the first door he opened was the one for the bathroom so he was able to relieve himself quickly.

There was a tub in the bathroom as well, one of those ancient looking claw foot numbers that Stiles had always heard about but never actually seen in real life. There was no showerhead, though, so Stiles turned on the water, let it run for a moment to warm up, and then plugged the drain to fill up the tub to take a bath.

While he was waiting for the tub to fill, Stiles poked around the bathroom and found soap in a cabinet under the sink and a few towels that smelled a little bit smoky, but were clean, nonetheless. Once the tub was filled with hot water, Stiles, hopped in and tried to let his muscles relax. He was, not surprisingly, very tense from everything that had happened the past two days, but he felt better now that he was soaking in the tub.

As he lounged in the tub, Stiles remembered the nightmare he had. It had seemed so real. He suddenly recalled having a similar dream the first night he had spent in the house, but at the time he had been too preoccupied to think much of it. It had certainly been a different dream and it hadn’t scared him nearly as much as the house he was being held in bursting into flames when he tried to open the door, but Stiles couldn’t help think about the voice he’d heard in both of them. It was definitely the same voice, but Stiles wasn’t sure if he knew whom it belonged to. It hadn’t sounded familiar, but maybe it would have if it had been corporeal instead of an ominous, magical, floating voice.

Stiles cleaned himself off as he ruminated on the dreams, but in the end decided that it was probably just his subconscious going crazy. After all, the dreams started the same night as his captivity, so it would make sense for his frantic thoughts to create a voice whispering, _“Help me,”_ in his head. Besides, having similar dreams two nights in a row wasn’t a reason for Stiles to try and psychoanalyze himself.

He got out of the tub and dried off, wrapping the towel around his waist and grabbing his sweat soaked shirt and his underwear off the floor. He peeked into a couple of rooms on the third floor but was discouraged to find them all empty until he opened the door to the only remaining room on the floor and saw a dresser tucked against the wall. Stiles opened it up and found a whole slew of t-shirts, pants, underwear, and socks ripe for the taking. He smelled one of the t-shirts and was relieved that, much like the towels, it just smelled a bit like old wood and smoke. The clothes were clean, which meant that Stiles wouldn’t have to go naked for the rest of his life.

He put on the t-shirt he had picked up and pulled a pair of pants out of the bottom drawer. The shirt was a plain grey t-shirt with no writing on it and the pants were just a pair of dark wash blue jeans, but they both felt extremely soft. Stiles could tell the clothes had been worn before and wondered if they had belonged to someone else that Beast had kept prisoner. He couldn’t imagine they had survived from before the fire, but he also wouldn’t have thought that the interior of the house would have survived the way it did, so he decided not to worry about the origin of the clothes and was just thankful that they were there. He looked at himself in the mirror mounted to the top of the dresser. The clothes were a little big on him, but he figured that it was better than running around naked, so he left his own clothes in a pile next to the dresser, making a mental note to try and find some sort of basket or box to put his dirty laundry in, and decided to explore the house a little bit more.

Other than the bedroom with the dresser, his own room, and the bathroom, the third floor consisted entirely of empty bedrooms, so he didn’t spend much time on it. The second floor however, contained the library he had found before, a large office space, and a few rooms that were mostly empty and seemed like they hadn’t been touched in several years. He ventured to the first floor after that and found a large dining room that definitely hadn’t been touched in years and a sitting room with some old dusty furniture scattered about. The kitchen was towards the back of the house on the same side as the dining room and there was a little door that Stiles had missed before that led into a small room with a washer and dryer that seemed slightly outdated, but worked nonetheless.

After fully exploring the house and even finding a basket for his dirty laundry in the room with the washer and dryer, Stiles made his way back to the library and peeked in to make sure the coast was clear before he pushed the door open and began to scan the shelves in search of a book he could take and read. The library seemed to be the only source of entertainment in the house and Stiles figured reading was definitely better than sitting around and twiddling his thumbs all day, every day for the rest of his life.

He was still searching when he felt another presence in the room and turned around to see Beast in the doorway crouching on all fours with he ears lying flat against his head and his eyes locked on Stiles.

Stiles felt a rush of panic when he realized that the library might not be somewhere Beast wanted him to be and rushed to try and make amends for his transgression.

“Uh, hi,” Stiles stammered, awkwardly, trying not to sound as scared as he was sure he looked. “I’m sorry, do you not want me in here? I just thought I would grab a book to pass the time…” he cut himself off as Beast got closer and he realized that Beast actually didn’t look like he was angry or trying to threaten Stiles, he just looked curious and slightly confused.

“Why do you smell like that?”

Relief washed over Stiles as Beast circled around him, sniffing at the air. Stiles had forgotten that he had bathed. Beast was just trying to figure out the new smell.

“Yeah, right, I took a bath and washed up, so that’s probably…”

“No, it’s something else.”

Stiles thought for a moment and then remembered that he changed clothes. He didn’t think that would affect how he smelled that much, but then again, Beast’s sense of smell was probably a thousand times better than any human’s.

“Oh, I found some clothes in a dresser in the bedroom next to mine and put them on since I didn’t have anything to wear besides what I showed up in,” Stiles paused, hoping that it wasn’t a bad thing that he smelled different. “I hope that’s alright.”

“You smell more familiar now.”

Stiles just looked at Beast as he continued to circle and sniff the air around him. He couldn’t think of any situation where smelling familiar would be a bad thing, so he just tried to relax.

“But I can’t quite place the scent.”

“I see,” Stiles said, hesitantly. He was looking for a way out of being sniffed endlessly by Beast. “Well, I’m starving so I’m going to go grab some food from the kitchen.”

With that, Stiles, walked quickly out the door before Beast could respond and was relieved when he didn’t follow.

He entered the kitchen and began to search the pantry and refrigerator for some sustenance. There was even more food in there than before, so he had plenty of options.

On his way back to his room Stiles saw Beast slip through a door that he could only assume led to the basement he was forbidden from going into. He hovered by the door for a second before deciding against breaking the rules for once in his life and making his way back to the library to pick out a book to read.

 

* * *

 

When Allison’s parents sat her down two days after Stiles’ disappearance, she had been expecting a lecture about safety and an interrogation about why she was in the woods with Scott and Stiles the night he had disappeared. When she had first told her parents they had seemed almost unaffected by the news, so she was a little surprised when they had come into her room and asked her to come into the family room to talk about Stiles. She was most certainly not expecting her parents to tell her that they hunted supernatural creatures for a living and that they thought Stiles’ disappearance might have been something of that nature.

She was stunned, but also relieved. After the way Stiles had acted that night, Allison wasn’t convinced that he hadn’t taken his own life. Especially because of the way that he had left his Jeep at Scott’s like he was giving it to him.

Finding out that he might still be alive gave Allison hope and there was nothing that she had needed more right then.

“We have reason to believe that it could have been a werewolf,” her father told her. “Werewolves are territorial, but they also seek out a pack. If Stiles was found by a lone werewolf, there was a good chance that they might have adopted him if they didn’t perceive him as a threat.”

“Wait, does that mean that Stiles might be a werewolf now?” Allison was worried again. “Are you going to kill him, too?”

Allison’s father put his hand over her’s, “We have a code we live by, Allison. Stiles is young and most likely will have been turned against his will. We will do our best to help him learn how to control it, and as long as he doesn’t become a threat we will have no reason to kill him. We’ll try and help him however we can.”

There wasn’t a hint of deception in her father’s eyes, so Allison believed him.

“Your Aunt Kate will be here tomorrow to help us find and kill whatever took Stiles. Hopefully, we’ll find him alive, and if we’re lucky he won’t have been turned.”

Allison didn’t sleep that night. She was restless with all of the new information she had learned and anxious to find her friend. Scott had been miserable for the past two days and it killed her to see him like that. Allison cared about Stiles a lot too, but Scott had known him his whole life. It was like someone had taken away his brother.

As she lay awake in bed, Allison swore she would find whatever took Stiles and she would kill it.

 

* * *

 

The voice was back. But this time, Stiles had no clue where he was. It was dark and cold like a cave and he could see a light in the distance but whenever he tried to move towards it, it got further away. The voice was shouting this time, _“Help me, Stiles!”_ and Stiles could feel his heart racing as his feet hit the ground repeatedly.

Suddenly the ground underneath him gave way and he was falling. The voice was getting louder and louder the further he fell but after a while he could feel himself slowing down. He still couldn’t see anything but his feet suddenly landed on solid ground.

“Hello?”

 _“Help me, Stiles,”_ the voice wasn’t yelling anymore, but it sounded close.

Without warning, it was like someone turned on all the lights and Stiles found himself in front of the house again. Afraid to make the same mistake twice, Stiles stood completely still.

“Is anyone there?”

The front door of the house began to open slowly. Stiles felt his heart race as he braced himself for whatever was going to happen next but all that emerged from the door was a man a few years older than Stiles with short black hair and hazel eyes. He walked towards Stiles with a calm look on his face and stopped once he was close to him. Stiles heart was still racing, but not because he was afraid. The man was beautiful.

The man with the dark hair put his hand on Stiles neck and it felt so real that Stiles thought for a second that this wasn’t a dream. He closed his eyes at the stranger’s warm touch and felt the man’s breath near his ear. “Please, help me, Stiles,” he said.

Then he was gone.

 

* * *

 

Stiles woke up easily this time, opening his eyes slowly. He laid in bed, trying his hardest not to forget what he just dreamt, but realized quickly that the feeling of the man’s hand on his neck and the sound of his words in his ears weren’t going to be easily forgotten.

But what had happened? Stiles wasn’t sure if his dream had really been a dream. Three nights in a row, starting the first night he spent in this house? Surely that wasn’t a coincidence.

Maybe it was the house that was causing the dreams. Restless spirits left behind by the fire and all that jazz. Four days ago, Stiles would have called anyone who believed in ghosts, crazy, but now that he’d been kidnapped by some sort of beast with an identity crisis, he couldn’t help but think that anything was possible.

The man who came out of the house had been the source of the voice all along. But what did he want Stiles to help him with? And who was he? Stiles sat in bed while all of the questions piled on top of each other. Would these dreams come every night? Will the man talk to him? Is any of it actually real?

Stiles tried to remember everything he could about the dreams. He was looking for a sign or a clue… something consistent in all of three, but his memory was fuzzy and lacking in the details department, so he focused instead on the man. He was sure he hadn’t seen the man before. He would have remembered him because it wasn’t every day that you ran into someone that beautiful. But the man had seemed so familiar when he stood in front of Stiles in the last dream. No matter how long he thought about it though, nothing stood out to him. It had all seemed so quick in his mind that he hadn’t had time to notice any details.

It was still dark outside, but Stiles couldn’t fall back asleep. He didn’t know who the man was or why he thought that Stiles could help him, but something in his gut was screaming at Stiles not to ignore these dreams. Maybe it was only because he didn’t have much else to do or maybe it was because he thought that this might be his way out, but Stiles knew he wouldn’t stop until he’d figured it out.

At first, Stiles didn’t register the noises he was hearing, but suddenly he became hyper aware of the sounds coming from outside his window. Stiles felt panic and hope creeping into his chest at the same time and sprinted to the window to see several people outside the house with flashlights. He was simultaneously worried about their safety and consumed with a sudden urge to run downstairs and outside in hopes that they could all make it out of this alive.

There were two men practically standing on the front porch talking to each other and Stiles could make out the outline of another figure a few meters away, shining his flashlight into the woods. He couldn’t make out what they were saying, but one of them, an older man with grey hair, probably in his mid-to-late forties, looked back towards the woods and gestured for his accomplice to follow.

They weren’t police officers, but they were armed pretty heavily. The man with the grey hair gestured at the third member of the party as he passed him and they all disappeared into the woods. Stiles felt his stomach drop and wasn’t sure what he should make of the situation.

Beast was nowhere to be found, despite how close the men had been to the house, so either he hadn’t seen them as a threat or was far enough away that he hadn’t noticed their presence. Stiles didn’t think the second scenario made much sense and was sure that Beast wouldn’t look at those men and their guns and think they weren’t a threat, so he found himself back at square one with absolutely no information and so many questions that he was almost relieved when he heard his door open slowly and felt Beast’s presence behind him.

“Who were those people?” Stiles asked, turning to face him.

“I don’t know.”

“Were they looking for me?”

“I think so, yes.”

“Why did they leave like they didn’t even see the giant house right in front of them?”

“Because they didn’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't answer many questions with this chapter. But the next one will do so explaining, so worry not. Please excuse any typos or grammar issues, I edit this myself so I won't always catch my mistakes.  
> I'm going to continue trying to write at least one chapter a week, but things are about to get kind of crazy with school, so there might be a delay between updates in the future. I'll try and warn you ahead of time though. I know what I want to do with the next chapter though, so I should have it up within a week. Thanks for all the support you've given me so far! I'm glad you guys like what I've done!


	4. The Discovery

Stiles waited for Beast to elaborate, but he just stood there, staring back with no readable expression on his face. His face was never really that readable, though, considering it was more of a muzzle.

“That’s it?” Stiles asked Beast a little too aggressively. He hadn’t been able to get a straight answer out of Beast the entire time he’d been staying in the house and it was starting to get old. You could only be cryptic for so long before it stopped being interesting or intimidating and just started to be annoying.

“I don’t know what you’re expecting me to say,” Beast growled back at him, quietly. Stiles couldn’t tell if he was annoyed, sad, or both, but he wasn’t happy.

“You could start by explaining why they couldn’t see your house since they were basically standing on the porch.”

“Because no one can see this house.”

“That’s not true or I wouldn’t be here.”

“It is true and it’s exactly why you’re here.”

Stiles was quiet for a moment as he thought about what Beast had just said. It took him a little off guard to find out he was some sort of exception, but the more he thought about it the more sense it made. The house wasn’t exactly hidden, but Beast didn’t have any other prisoners that Stiles knew about. If people could see the house, then Beast would have probably had a few more captives occupying the other rooms since he apparently didn’t kill anyone who wasn’t a threat. But Stiles was the only one. It also made Beast’s unwillingness to let him go a little bit more logical.

“Okay… we’ll come back to that in a minute, but you still haven’t explained why no one can see the house.”

“I don’t know.”

Stiles didn’t respond right away. Surely, Beast knew something. Why was he playing dumb?

“How can you not know? You’re the only person that lives here. This is your house, how do you not know why no one can see it?”

 _“Because I don’t know. That is all I can offer you,”_ Beast was growling and his eyes were flashing red, but he didn’t seem angry, just distressed. _“There are a lot of things that I don’t know.”_

Stiles felt his anger subside slightly, but his curiosity wasn’t so easily extinguished.

“What can you offer me, then?” Stiles asked calmly, realizing for the first time that Beast might act cryptic because he doesn’t really know what’s going on either.

Beast’s eyes, faded and his posture sank just a little bit. He was quiet for a moment, but Stiles didn’t press the question further. Something in the way that Beast was acting made him seem significantly less threatening, which was probably why he hadn’t shown any uncertainty up until this point. For the first time, Stiles actually felt somewhat sympathetic towards him.

“All I know is that you are the first person who has ever been able to see this house. I don’t know why others can’t see it. That was part of the reason why I kept you here; I was hoping I might find out why.”

In that moment, it became very clear to Stiles that Beast was more human than he had ever given him credit for. He had always known that there were fragments of humanity within Beast, but he could see now that there was a lot more that Beast kept tucked away. The real question, though, was whether or not Beast had kept it hidden to try and induce fear, or if he was hiding his own.

“I’ve been living alone in this house for eight years and never once has anyone ever set foot inside. Thousands of people have passed by and not a single one has ever actually seen it. Until you wandered in, I had never once interacted with anyone.”

 _That explains the lack of manners,_ Stiles thought, but didn’t say.

“I don’t know how this house came into existence or what kind of power is keeping it hidden. I don’t even know how I came into existence. All I know is that I woke up here 8 years ago and have been here ever since.”

Stiles was surprised to say the very least. He had thought that Beast had the answers and just wasn’t giving them up.  It didn’t even occur to him that Beast might not be giving him any answers because he didn’t know them.

“You have no recollection of anything that happened to you before you were here?”

“No.”

They were silent. Stiles was still filled with questions, but he knew now that Beast wouldn’t have the answer to them, so he didn’t bother asking. After a few minutes, Beast excused himself and left Stiles alone to sleep.

* * *

 

Sheriff Stilinski hadn’t slept for more than a few hours at a time since his son had gone missing. Tonight was no different. He glanced at the clock beside his bed to see that it was 2:37AM and sighed before pushing himself upright to get out of his bed.

He padded down the stairs in his socked feet and pulled a frozen dinner out of the freezer, unwrapping it and throwing it in the microwave. He poked the appropriate buttons and then ventured into the living room to turn on the T.V. He flipped through the channels and finally settled on the History Channel just as the microwave began chirping that his food was ready.

He ate his food while the narrator went on and on about the ancient Egyptians, and once he was done, he laid down in hopes that the dull, emotionless voice seeping from the T.V. could put him to sleep. He realized around 3:19AM, that sleep wasn’t going to grace him with her presence again that night and decided to go take a shower and get ready to go into work, instead.

At 4:03AM, Sheriff Stilinski arrived at the station and walked by the other on-duty officers without a word, making a beeline for his desk. He wasn’t supposed to be in until 7AM and the rest of the staff knew that, but they also knew that his son was missing, that he wasn’t sleeping well, and that the only thing that made him feel better was working since the case he had assigned himself was his son’s.

People had tried to convince him not to take the case as his own and to leave it to one of the deputies, but Mr. Stilinski wouldn’t listen. They tried to tell him that he didn’t need the extra stress and that he should let someone else head up the search, but most of them had known that the Sheriff wouldn’t be able to sit around and let someone else do the searching. He was going to want to do it himself. That was why he was the Sheriff.

He began pouring over the case file, but didn’t find anything new that he hadn’t seen when he had looked over it the other seventy-seven times, so he put it down and rested his head in his hands, hoping for some sort of divine intervention to let him know what had happened to his son.

By 7:31AM, he’d done just about everything he could do to keep himself busy and found himself pouring over the case file for the seventy-ninth time. However, he was interrupted about halfway through.

“Sheriff Stiliniski?”

He looked up to see Chris Argent standing in front of him.

“I need to speak to you about your son’s disappearance.”

* * *

 

Stiles woke up early the next morning, despite the interruption in the middle of the night. His thoughts were racing and he felt restless, but he didn’t get out of bed right away because really, there wasn’t anywhere to go. He thought about the previous night and his conversation with Beast and part of him wished that they hadn’t talked because all it had done was create more questions. The other part of him was thankful that they were on the same page now and glad that he understood Beast a little bit better.

Eventually, Stiles got out of bed and showered, before making his way to the neighboring room to get some clean clothes to wear. After changing, he blundered downstairs to get something to eat, but on his way back up to his room, he heard Beast in the library again.

Stiles didn’t even hesitate to knock softly on the door and then let himself in.

“Why do I get the feeling you’re not just looking for something to read for pleasure?”

“Because, I’m not.” Beast didn’t seem amused by Stiles’ joke, but he tried not to let it bother him. A lack of identity was a pretty good reason to be pissed at the world, in Stiles opinion. Regardless of how much that opinion sounded like it should be a fourteen-year-old scene kid’s Facebook status.

“Looking for answers about what happened to you?”

Beast didn’t really respond so much as grunt, but Stiles took it as an invitation to help, nonetheless.

“So, what are we looking for?”

“There are a lot of books on the supernatural in this library, I’ve been trying to go through them and see if anything fits, but all the information is vague.” Beast was pouring over the shelves and would occasionally pull a book off of them to flip through it before breathing heavily and returning it to its spot.

Stiles began to flip through some of the books that Beast had placed on the desk. They were large and old and the text was so miniscule that Stiles had difficulty seeing it, but he began to flip through the pages as well. If there was anything Stiles was exceptionally good at, it was researching things.

Stiles wanted to help for two reasons. The first was because Stiles genuinely felt bad for Beast. He’d always had a soft spot for the downtrodden and when that downtrodden individual was a dog (albeit a very large and sometimes-menacing dog) it made his heart hurt in ways he couldn’t explain but could probably mostly attribute to Sarah McLachlan and her damn commercials.

Second was because he was at least sixty percent sure that Beast would let him go if they could figure this out. It would probably take a while, but a while is better than an eternity. Besides, it gave him something to do every day besides mope and read classic literature and Stiles had a feeling that looking up information about the supernatural would be interesting enough to hold his attention, even without his meds. It was a whole world that Stiles knew nothing about. It would be like playing a video game for the first time only with reading.

The large book that Stiles had opened turned out to be a bestiary of some kind with a lot of other information as well. The book was bigger than all of his textbooks and had at least 1,500 pages. It reminded him of those big, old encyclopedias that every library had on display even though no one had probably touched it since the invention of Google.

He started at the beginning of the book, reading the first few paragraphs of every entry and moving on when it was obvious that nothing in the entry had anything to do with Beast or his situation. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but he was pretty sure that he would know when he read it.

Stiles and Beast spent the whole day in the library. Beast pulled book after book, looking for answers while Stiles scanned every entry under A, B, C, and most of D. It was dark, and had been for a few hours when Beast finally gave up for the night and left Stiles alone in the library, thanking him for his help. Stiles stayed a bit longer, scanning a few more entries in the encyclopedia of the supernatural before dozing off on top of the book.

* * *

 

The man was standing in front of him in the library. He was shirtless, barefoot, and dirty and his pants were torn in numerous places. There was blood on his chest, face, and hands and all over his pants, but he seemed unconcerned about it. Stiles panicked for a minute before realizing that the man didn’t have any visible cuts or marks of any kind. Besides the layer of grime covering him, he looked in perfect condition.

Stiles stood up from behind the desk but didn’t make a move to come out from behind it. The two of them stood staring at each other for a few minutes before the man finally said, “Follow me.”

He turned to the door and began to move silently towards it, but Stiles stopped him before his fourth step.

“Who are you?” he asked, hoping that he didn’t sound too frantic. He _was_ frantic though. These dreams kept happening and it couldn’t be coincidence. Now that he was trying to help Beast figure out who or what he was, he wanted answers from this cryptic man. The man who, unfortunately, just turned to Stiles, put a finger to his mouth and motioned for Stiles to follow.

So, he followed. The man led him out of the library and down the stairs. Everything seemed so real that Stiles briefly wondered if he was actually dreaming or not. The idea that he wasn’t, and that he was actually following this man around the house freaked him out a little bit though, so he decided to just assume he was dreaming.

The man stopped by the door to the basement and turned to face Stiles. He put his finger to his mouth again and then walked through the door. Yeah, this was definitely a dream.

Stiles hesitated for a second before opening the door and following. He stood at the top of the staircase looking for the man, but beyond the fourth or fifth step, everything was pitch black. He had almost decided to turn around and walk back out the door when a purple light began to shine dimly from below, lighting the stairs enough that Stiles could see to the bottom where his ghostly friend was standing, facing away from the stairs.

The man moved forward and faded away and for some reason, Stiles followed him. He couldn’t figure out what the man was trying to show him or tell him. But, when he got to the bottom of the stairs, he stopped caring because he found the source of the purple light.

In the center of the empty room, there was small glass orb floating all on its own and inside of it was a purple flower that was glowing faintly. Stiles had never seen anything this beautiful in his entire life. He walked slowly towards the hovering object and without thinking, lifted his hand as if to touch it. Suddenly, a roar sounded from the side of the room opposite of Stiles and a pair of glowing red eyes glared at him. Beast stepped into the light, lips pulled back into a snarl.

“I’m sorry… I—“

 _“GET OUT!”_ Beast roared loudly, rearing up on his hind legs and letting out and earth-shattering howl.

Without thinking, Stiles ran. He ran back up the stairs and didn’t stop until he was at the front door, throwing it open and bolting out into the dark woods. He was trying desperately to wake himself up the entire time, and finally realized that he wasn’t actually asleep. Everything had just happened.

In his shock, Stiles, tripped over a root of some sort and went tumbling to the ground. He heard the sound of foot steps running in his direction and all he could think about was whether or not Beast was going to kill him now that he had broken the only rule he had been given.

He closed his eyes and waited for Beast to either pick him up and take him back to the house or just kill him outright, but instead he heard a familiar voice say his name.

“Stiles?”

His eyes flew open and he jumped to his feet to see Allison standing in front of him, looking concerned and holding a bow and arrow. He could barely breathe let alone reply to her. Suddenly, his knees went week and everything turned to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking a little longer to update, this chapter was a bit difficult at first. I'm pretty sure this is going to be 7 chapters once it's finished, so I hope you guys stick around to see it through to the end. 
> 
> The next two chapters are probably going to be longer than I've previously written, and they will probably take me longer to get out. I'm finishing up some online classes over the next two weeks, so I won't have much time to write, unfortunately. Once I'm done with my online classes, though, I will have PLENTY of time to write for you guys, so don't go anywhere! Thanks for reading! Your feedback and kudos are probably the only thing that kept me going with this. <3
> 
> P.S. If you want to find me on tumblr or twitter my handle is the same as on here: ajp9x.


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